Level Up
by Slivering
Summary: Echizen Ryoma joins the Hyotei tennis club, and embarks on a mission to gain respect from their arrogant captain, Atobe Keigo. [Atobe/Ryoma]
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

* * *

"Play a match with me."

Atobe Keigo, captain of the Hyotei tennis team, blue eyes, black hair, and charismatic to the core, arched a brow in disbelief. He took another long sip of his water, and studied the boy in front of him. It was a freshman. He'd transferred to the school a few weeks ago, and had signed up to be a member of the tennis club.

Atobe hadn't paid him much mind. He didn't even know the kid's name.

What was the point, if he was just a puny freshman?

"Excuse me?" Atobe asked.

"Play a match with me," the freshman pointed his racquet out in a _very _cocky manner, which had Atobe's lips tightening. "I want to play you."

"Look," Atobe capped his bottle, and stood up. "I don't have time for this." He glanced up. "Hey, Kabaji? Go find this freshman some job to do. Like gathering tennis balls."

He whirled around to go take a shower, but apparently the freshman didn't know how to handle rejection. A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, giving it a tug. Atobe's brow twitched and he turned to give him a hostile glare. "Is there something you'd like?" He churned the words out slowly and heavily.

The freshman looked keen. He had the oddest shade of gold eyes, challenging and lit.

"My name's Echizen Ryoma," his bottom lip curled. "Have a match with me."

"Practice is over," Atobe yanked his hand away. "And don't go around touching people. You might have germs."

Ryoma just peered up at him. Atobe took this moment to look at him properly. He was short and lean, with golden skin and slanted hazel eyes. He'd gotten a medium-sized Hyotei jersey, but that had obviously been too big on him, because the sleeves drooped down past his hands, and the bottom of the jacket dragged low.

"Why won't you play a match?" Ryoma said, and he drew out the words, long and sharp."Running away?"

Now, Atobe was starting to feel irritated. Who _was _this freshman, anyway? Even seniors didn't clamber up to him all arrogant and pushy, and now this Ryoma kid thought he had the right to do so? He was obviously new. Any other member would know to back off after being told twice, especially by someone as popular as Atobe.

Atobe decided to take pity on his lack of knowledge. "Do you know who I am?"

Ryoma scratched the back of his neck. "Heh. You're the captain, right?"

A slow nod. "Yes. But do you know who I am, exactly?"

The freshman squinted. "No. But you look like a Monkey."

This kid was _crossing _the line. Badly. Atobe willed himself to stay calm. "I'm Atobe Keigo, heir of the Atobe Company. I'm _rich,_" he emphasized. "I rule over two hundred people, and can get away with practically anything. I'm the only exception to the universal Hyotei rule of getting kicked off once a game is lost. I'm…"

"I don't see the point of this," Ryoma said blandly. "Do you want me to bow down, or something?"

"No," Atobe grit his teeth. "I'm just saying it wouldn't be wise to treat me in such a way."

"What way?" Ryoma grinned cheekily. "Do you want me to treat you like a king instead?"

Atobe couldn't help but feel as if he was being mocked. He smoothed out his shirt, and pressed out, "Yes. Actually, that's the way most treat me. But if don't think you can't handle that, it's best that you just stay out of the way." He narrowed his eyes. "You're only a freshman. I don't see where you're getting all this nerve."

Ryoma leaned back, racquet locked behind his elbows. "Okay," he said. He added, after a moment, "I think I'll call you Monkey King."

Atobe slumped his shoulders. This kid just _didn't _get it. He didn't understand who he was talking to. Resigning to cut the conversation off where it had started, Atobe straightened out his shirt once more, and headed for the opposite direction. "This ends here. Go pick up balls with the other freshman."

Ryoma frowned. "So I guess you _are_ running away."

_He's only trying to provoke you, _Atobe reminded himself. Besides, he really didn't have the energy to play a match right now. It was a hot day, the courts rolling in waves of heat, the sky filled with humid that matched the inside of an oven. He glanced back at Ryoma, who was heading away, jersey tight around his body. Wasn't he hot in that? He was probably sweating buckets, soaked in perspiration and – Atobe shuddered.

_Some _people just didn't understand.

And what was with that attitude?

It was wholly disgraceful.

Atobe shook his head, shoved the remainders of Echizen Ryoma out of his mind, and headed for the showers. He didn't have time to think of such minor matters, or, better said, minor _people._

* * *

"Hey, Jiroh?"

Atobe clipped a towel around his waist, and took out his moisturizing lotion. He lathered a big glop over his right leg. "Have you heard of Echizen Ryoma?"

He didn't know why he'd brought it up. He just felt so frustrated by the way Ryoma had been so unaffected by his presence, like he didn't have a care in the world that he was talking to someone that could ruin his chances of getting into university. Not that he would do that, ever. He wasn't _that _cruel.

But it still made him boil.

Jiroh rubbed his eyelids, having just woken up from a long nap. "Huh? Dunno. He…the freshman?" his words were disjointed from sleep. "I think Oishitari said he was a new member, just signed up…" Jiroh lifted his shoulder in a shrug, and thunked his head back down on the bench to welcome more slumber.

"I know that," Atobe said. "Is he any good?"

Jiroh groaned. "How am I supposed to know?" he lifted his brow, and a lazy smile spread to his cheeks. "What, has he caught your interest?"

"Hardly," Atobe nearly choked. "He's bratty. He came up and demanded a match."

"So just tell him no," Jiroh said. "No big deal."

"Yes, but – " Atobe ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. _You don't understand, _he wanted to say. _He had this __attitude_… "He was just rude." Atobe slipped his school shirt over his chest, taking a glance at himself in the mirror. He smiled at his mole, a sign of his beauty. As usual, he looked truly handsome. "I suppose it doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't," Jiroh sounded mischievous now. "But now that I think about it, I do remember Oishitari mentioning that the new freshman was pretty cute…" A laugh escaped from the back of Jiroh's throat. "Are you sure he hasn't caught your eye, Atobe-_sama_?" More chuckles and guffaws from his so-called friend.

Atobe rigidly turned away. "I'm certain," he said. "Now if you'd excuse me…"

He was just about to leave the club room door, when a warm body hit his chest. Atobe took a step backwards, and felt the air suck out of him. Well, if it wasn't Echizen Ryoma himself, towel around his neck, eyes wide and unblinking. "Move," Atobe said, harshly, wishing he could just go home now. He really needed to sit in the bath and think.

"You should use your manners," Ryoma clucked his tongue mockingly. He slid past him. "See you tomorrow."

Atobe's shoulders stiffened. See you _tomorrow? _He was acting like they were friends. Like they were on the same level as each other. Ridiculous.

Atobe turned around, ready to threaten this freshman that Kabaji would beat him up, when he heard Jiroh yell:

"Man, Oishitari was right! He _is _cute."

Closing his eyes, Atobe took a deep breath, and saved himself further embarrassment by walking calmly out of the club room, and then, once out, speeding up his pace, until he was sprinting down the sidewalk and demanding a limo pick him up and deliver him to his house.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here's another chapter. For some reason, I feel like my first chapter was really good and this one sucks in comparison. Sorry. This chapter's kind of a repeat of the last chapter. I swear, I'll be more creative for the next one!**

**Kittykat10101: Hehe, thanks!**

**Duchessme: glad you find it interesting! Thanks for the review! **

**Orcux: I literally love your reviews. They're so long and make me so happy! :D Thank you so much! **

**Animelover4ever69: Indeed, they have met. And they aren't off to a very good start haha…thanks for the review!**

* * *

All of the freshmen were practicing their forehand swings except for one Echizen Ryoma.

Atobe Keigo wondered if he would ever catch a break.

_Ch', how troublesome._

Having finished his match with Jiroh, the captain of Hyotei sauntered over to where Ryoma was leaning against the fence.

After yesterday's little confrontation, Atobe _really _wasn't in the mood to have to drag Ryoma to do drills, but as the captain of Hyotei, he had certain responsibilities he couldn't dismiss. As he approached the bored figure, Atobe tried to avoid being sucked in by his appearance. _Why does the brat have to be so cute? _Wearing the oversized Hyotei jersey, Ryoma sipped nonchalantly on a can of Ponta.

"_You_," Atobe declared when he approached. "have officially stepped out of line."

Ryoma looked up, eyes landing on Atobe's face. He stared at him for a moment. "Who are you again?"

Atobe twitched. _How dare the brat pretend he doesn't know who I am – especially after I gave him that long speech yesterday about my high social status! _ "Please," Atobe flicked his hair, surveying Ryoma as if he were a petty fly. "You were on your knees for a match yesterday, so it serves you nothing but making yourself look stupid when you pretend not to know me."

Ryoma just looked at him. After a moment, a smirk flitted onto his face. "Let's have a match."

"As I already _stated _several times-"

"Yeah, yeah. You're the captain, blah blah, blah." Ryoma squared his shoulders, and took a long gulp of his Ponta. "This whole team is mada mada dane."

Was it possible for someone to get even _more _annoying in just one day?

"You're certainly a cocky freshman," Atobe grabbed the Ponta out of Ryoma's grip, causing the freshman to stumble back. Lifting his chin up, Atobe continued, "However, it seems you're all talk and no do. So far, you've done nothing but act as if you're great. You haven't even hit a tennis ball."

Ryoma just gave him an awfully smug grin. "I asked you for a match."

"And I rejected it," Atobe tried to infuse as much coldness in his voice as possible. "Now go do your drills, or I'll kick you out of the club."

Obediently, Ryoma nodded, and sauntered off to go join the other freshmen.

Atobe's grip slackened around Ryoma's Ponta. Had he finally gotten through to him?

Before he could lavish in his victory, Ryoma paused, and looked over his shoulder.

"Ne, Captain? Of course I remembered you. It's hard to forget a face that looks so much like a monkey."

Atobe grimaced. He had spoken to soon.

* * *

The clubroom situation was somewhat like déjà vu for Atobe as he tried to explain his thoughts to a half-asleep Jiroh. "He called the whole team mada mada dane," Atobe explained, waving his arms in an admittedly unroyal fashion. "And I had to take his Ponta as a punishment to get him to do basic drills."

Jiroh yawned. "Who are you talking about again?"

Atobe winced. "Jiroh! I'm talking about the brat."

Scrunching his brow, Jiroh mumbled out, "I don't remember any brat."

Sounding repulsed, Atobe coughed out, "The one you said was supposedly _cute _yesterday."

The sleepy Hyotei member blinked in thought, before his eyes lit up with recognition. Sitting up straight, Jiroh stretched his arms before smirking. "You're talking about Echizen Ryoma." He laughed. "This is the second time he's infuriated you. I'm starting to think you've taken a serious liking to him."

"A serious _dis_liking," Atobe corrected. He sniffed, and turned to Shishido. "Please tell me _you _agree?"

Shishido bent down to tie up his school shoes, brushing back his long hair. "Of course," he tied the shoelaces, looking at Atobe for only a mere second. "He has horrible work ethic, and constantly disrespects his seniors. It goes against all my morals." The hard-working player looked revolted. "I don't want to imagine the future of this team."

"Exactly," Atobe was relieved _someone _understood. "He doesn't appreciate Hyotei's grandness."

Jiroh hummed. "Oh, I don't know! He's cute, right?"

Shishido arched his brow. "That doesn't have anything to do with how he treats his senpai-tachi."

Not fazed, Jiroh replied, "Nah. We can let him off the hook if he's cute."

Atobe slung his jersey off, wondering why he was friends with Jiroh in the first place. Shishido looked exasperated as well. "He's not cute," Atobe finally said, plopping down on the bench next to Shishido and sighing tiredly. Honestly, being team captain was way too much work. He should be paid to do this. Not that he needed the money.

"Who's not cute?"

Atobe looked up just in time to see Ryoma enter the club room, sipping on a water bottle. _What is with the brat and drinks? He's always consuming liquids. _

"No one," Atobe said through tight lips.

Ryoma nodded, and his eyes lingered on Atobe's bare chest before they flicked over to Jiroh. "Ne, Jiroh-senpai, right?"

The normally sleepy male was suddenly alert. "Yeah?"

"Let's have a match."

Jiroh brightened. He looked just about ready to accept when Atobe shot him a glare that was so threatening that even the most carefree boy of Hyotei couldn't help but shrink back. He gave Ryoma a meek look. "Club time is over."

"So?" Ryoma frowned. "We can play in different courts."

Atobe felt an odd sort of jealousy that Ryoma had moved on from pestering him to Jiroh. _Wait, what? _Atobe gritted his teeth. No, of course he wasn't jealous. He was absolutely, positively _relieved _that the obnoxious freshman had stopped bothering him.

Looking disgruntled, Ryoma turned to Shishido. "How about you?"

"No," Shishido said, rigid and firm. "I don't accept matches with freshmen who can't follow basic instructions."

_You tell him! _Atobe internally decided Shishido deserved Singles 2.

Ryoma looked somewhat annoyed by the continuous rejections. "You're all mada mada dane," he mumbled under his breath before he found a space on the club room bench to change on. As he began to remove his shirt, Atobe found his eyes quite literally _glued _to Ryoma. He tried to tear them away, but they insisted on staying on the freshman.

He was _admittedly_ quite fit. And soft. Was that combination even possible?

Entranced, Atobe watched as Ryoma slipped on a pair of dark black pants, sliding them over his smooth thighs and adjusting them at his waist. Then the brat proceeded to toss on a white dress shirt, buttoning it up three quarters of the way, before evilly leaving the last two buttons undone, exposing his _admittedly _fine collarbone.

Atobe stared.

Ryoma slipped on his shoes, yawning. "Monkey King, drooling doesn't suit you."

Atobe unwillingly flushed. "I – I wasn't –"

"See you tomorrow," Ryoma walked calmly out of the club room, shutting the door behind him with a thud.

The moment he was gone, Jiroh burst out into laughter. "Sorry, Atobe, but you were _ogling!" _He looked as if his whole world had finally rejoiced.

Shishido looked as if he was suddenly questioning Atobe's sexual orientation.

Atobe looked as if he was suddenly questioning his own sanity.

"What a brat," Atobe finally huffed, grabbing his own bag and storming out of the club room.

Echizen Ryoma would _not_ get away with this disrespect. Atobe would make sure of it.

As the Hyotei captain waved over his Limo, he suddenly smiled.

And he knew exactly how to do so.


End file.
